Rivalry
by thebookworm121
Summary: After Ron humiliatingly dumps Hermione for another girl, Hermione has a one-night stand in the Muggle World with a blonde stranger. When School starts again, not only does she make up with her friends, there's a new student to Hogwarts; Draco Malfoy; the boy from the night club. They're supposed to hate each other, but that only seems to make them want each other more.
1. Chapter 1

**RIVALRY**

 **Chapter One  
** **Midnight Blues**

Hideous cows! All of them! I will not stand to be bullied for this teenage nonsense I want no part of. Except I am a part of it, thanks to his moronic pain in the butt, and by that I mean the lowlife scoundrel Ronald Weasley! Stupid, stupid and stupider! I let myself fall for that boy on a feeling in my gut and he just… DUMPS ME FOR ANOTHER GIRL? Ugh! The lowlife men they set themselves up to be from an act like so; I'd curse him for it if he wasn't already doomed. But now I get the blame?

Rumour has it it's all my fault I didn't try hard enough in our relationship.

I confess, our spark was out before we even acknowledged what it meant… But did I not treat him as well as a girlfriend would do? Did I not hold his hand in public? Did I not share intimate secrets in the bedroom and be loyal, although I had run out of reasons to stay? I had hope we'd fix ourselves.

We lost our old touch, we were never meant to be; he and I both knew it of course and discussed future actions. His words were,

" _I don't think I'm ready to lose you just yet… Can we give this some time?"_

Words of a snake. One week later I was crammed into the corner by Grace Hemsworth only to hear some nonsense gossip that my boyfriend was caught snogging Sarah Jespersen.

It was true. I confronted him head on with confidence in the Great Hall, and that balloon-head had the nerve to rise with a bright smirk and unravelled his less-than-impressive speech.

" _Hermione. I think it's time we have a little talk… We are over. Sorry love, better luck next time."_

Not one letter followed. Break was longer without them and I hadn't received any from either Harry, Ginny or Luna. Of course I don't expect an Owl dropping off one marked from Ronald Weasley.

Still, I guess with Harry staying the summer at the Weasley home and Ginny being his sister they were more bound to be on his side, and Luna was probably who knows where on a majestic adventure.

I only had my dear Crookshanks as company for these past few lonely months, and as he danced across my bare windowsill I sighed with boredom. He peppered his paws quickly along the long boarder of my window-seat and circled into a comfy spot in the corner.

"Comfy there?" I shook my head with a grin.

He tilted his orange head, staring at me with anticipation. Why was my mouth flapping like that at him and what on earth do I want with him now? More cuddling up in front of the TV while drowning in ice cream, tears and repeats of those dumb chick-flick movies I missed out on in the world of magic?

I suppose when you're alone and going crazy they're actually quite good. They were just lying in a stack in the living room; every miserably sad movie to remind single women that meanwhile Rachel McAdams is living up every romantic fantasy we all dream about.

I sigh, skimming my fingers down the stack of movies. What to watch next? The Titanic or change it up a little and watch a Disney movie? Let's change the rules shall we and get a bit crazy; Disney movie it is.

I curl up under my bed sheets, spooning a pillow between my legs and hold Crookshanks to my chest against his will. He hisses lightly and I growl in a mean response.

As Charlotte's Web begins, he tosses under my arm and struggles to break free from my grasp. In a swift pounce he slithers his fat body across the bed and pounces as far away from me.

"Crookshanks! Come back here and love me you nasty cat!" I whine.

"You're one sad excuse for a human you know that?" a body emerges through my window with amused laughter. My neighbour, and a very human one I might add, sprouted her leg over my window sill and pulled the rest of her torso the way through with ease.

I jump at her sudden entrance.

"Maddison!" I screech, holding my sheets up as my supposed self-defence. If it were a real murderer I doubt these cotton blankets will stop a bullet from piercing through my chest, or even a plastic fork.

"Hey stranger," she smirks and comes to a balanced stance in my bedroom.

Maddison had a reputation for being a badass. Of course I'd grown up with her my whole life and knew about every one of her adventures. Since we were both little tots her parents knew she would become a trouble maker and I a great success in maturity. Her as a four-year old was a lot to handle for any adult or nanny; throwing plates, chucking tantrums over ridiculous things!

"What are you doing here?" I settle my heart rate, though a fresh flash of sweat now beads my forehead and underarms moistly. Gross, I just had a shower too.

"You should be thanking me I'm here now, that poor cat was about to throw itself out the window 9 times. Every night you've been crying through dumb girly movies with him and it's just sad. You need to get out of the house," she rolls her eyes.

"I have not!" I defend pathetically. But when she looks me in the eyes with one eyebrow stalking my every word, I stutter.

"That's what I thought. Plus I can see your window from mine, you should know that by now."

I sigh, shaking my head at the girl, "besides, I can't go out, my mother will be home at 11."

Maddison strolls around the boarder of my room, stroking my belongings and I pull each thing from her hands. I don't like people going through my things…

"Hermione…" she stiffly exhales a thick breath of warning, "your mother goes out at least 6 nights a week, and when has she ever come home at 11 on her word? Exactly, she won't be back until the suns up love."

I look down in shame. She was right. Every night this Summer has been; _"I'm catching up with some friends, be home later,"_ or _"I'm going out, be home at 11,"_ or _"sorry I missed your birthday, I had a last minute lunch with my boss."_

She was wild and out of control and completely unaware she was a mom of 45 years of age. Sometimes I'd cry in the night softly because I'm afraid I'll be heard, and then I remember there was nobody to wake to hear my desperate whimpering. I cried for my mother's old loving touch when she'd trace light tickles over my back to send me to sleep or my father to sneak me a small chocolate when she wasn't looking like they used too.

But mother was out and father was in New York, never to return. I hadn't even known they'd separated last year.

I called dad later with so much hatred. How could he let their marriage fall apart? Wasn't he the one that told me he was more than in love with his wife?

Maddison had pulled me up from the sidewalk the next day and told me she always heard them fighting over things and they'd just lost their touch. Whenever he got home from work mom wouldn't run out and let him spin her around then take her in a sweet lingering kiss like he did every afternoon.

They just… Stopped being in love.

"Please," Maddison puckered her lips like a pouting pup, "you and I both need this. You need to get laid!"

I almost flinch at her use of words. Laid? As in a one night stand? With a boy? Oh no, oh no, no, no! I am not that kind of girl! I've slept with one man in my life and that was Ron. He was gentle at first, though not so pleasing to say the least. Perhaps… too soft, and I wasn't talking about his male parts; they erected quite easily to be honest. If I sat next to him, grazed my hand on his knee or showed him my bra, BAM, it was up like a giraffe's neck. It was quite embarrassing to be honest; you couldn't take him anywhere.

"I'm not like you, Maddison, I don't go out clubbing as often as you. I wouldn't even be able to get laid if I knew where to start!"

She shrugs without shame, "you just grind on them for a bit and let them feel your boobs. It's easy. Then after that they take you home."

"I don't know about this…" I hesitate.

She scoffs, running out of patience, "come on! My friend's bailed on me tonight and you only mailed me back two letters this year. The least you can do is be my wingman tonight!"

"Wing-woman," I correct.

"No."

I bow my head, right, she wasn't in contact with her feminine side. "Now come with me, those bitches left their dresses at my place so we could all get ready and leave together, but now they're yours."

Wait what?! Maddison pulls on my hand and tugs me with a great force. I'm flung from the comfort of my mattress and covers and huggable pillows, stained with mascara and tears.

"The window, really?" I complain, thinking that we could have easily just used my front door. It wasn't like anybody was home to catch me sneaking out!

She shows me how to climb her tree and I stare up at the trunk then down at my fuzzy slippers. This just isn't right. I give up - realising she is going to leave me behind - and haul my foot onto the branch.

As I throw my body through her window and land not-so-gracefully flat on her carpet, Maddison's already pulling out 6 or so t shirts from her wardrobe.

"Here, take your pick," She says.

"Do you have pants?" I ask.

"They're dresses…" she creases her eyebrows.

I widen my eyes. Those are dresses? I run my gaze over each of them, the longest one that seems most modest is an awfully bright yellow number, which was not my colour. The others, a red, blue, black, white and another black.

"For heaven's sake, wear this one, it'll hug your curves nicely," she frets while changing herself.

"Why can't you just keep them for yourself? I don't steal."

"My dear Hermione, this is not stealing. It's revenge. Besides, if they call the cops, I'll just say I never had them and you'll be back at your girls boarding school, which is God knows where - and don't tell me; if that lying-machine thing they test you with can prove I don't know, then I can keep my ass out of jail again…" she says so casually like she'd thought it through.

Where will I need these dresses at Hogwarts? Sell them to the prissy Pommie girls for them to wear at the ball?

Actually that's not so bad an idea… These brands have got to be designer for sure of they belong to Maddison's friends. She liked to surrounds herself with fellow rich people. While her parents were divorced also, her mom went and followed her dream, and became wealthy doing so. Her dad was somewhat financially stable and thought about if it was worth buying almonds at the supermarket.

I turn my back, slightly embarrassed, and strip while Maddison does her makeup in the bathroom. The dress struggled to pull over my thighs and when I settled the strap at the back of my neck with a click of the stud, I feel it hold everything in place like a shrunk glove.

Maddison struts out in her heels and looks me up and down with an approving smirk, "very nice, now let's see if that dress can sneak us in and land us free drinks as well!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
The Perfect Stranger**

I kept my head bowed low at all times, avoiding eye contact with the security guard while Maddison did all the work. That involved her discretely cupping his man-junk and pulling her strapless dress down enough to free her breasts for 5 seconds.

"I'll see you soon hot chocolate," she bit her lip seductively in a Satanist whisper.

I may puke, and it's going to go all over Mr hot chocolate…

"And that's how you sneak into a club, take notes my dear" she acknowledges me after her victory. I'd assumed she forgot I was there when she decided to whip out her jigglers.

I kept tugging at the hem of my dress, trying to pull it down to block that perverted breeze, sneaking under and up.

"Stop fidgeting, you look great. If you're not going to smuggle those dresses back to your school at least keep only that one because you look hot," she giggles, dragging me to the bar. "Hey Johnny," she greets the bartender.

He was hip looking with a beanie, black framed glasses and square jaw line. Those glasses weren't fooling anybody, he was downright gorgeous.

"Who's your friend?" He asks, wiping down the table.

"Hermione, this is Johnny, he'll give us drinks as long as we don't get caught so don't fuck up, kay?" She pauses, taking her attention back to him, "my friend here is miserable and lonely and I have taken her here in hope I can get her and myself some action."

Why was she telling him this?! This was my personal life, I don't want him thinking I'm a loser! Except that's exactly what I am. I've been moping for months over Ron and somehow at the same time, I'm not even sad our relationship is over!

Johnny slips two shots of clear liquid over the bar. Water! Great, I need some clarity!

I take it desperately, hoping to shut myself up and stay out of this awkward conversation by chugging it down. Then as the glass tips its poison down my throat I feel it burn my insides.

I squint my eyes and scrunch up my nose. Johnny and Maddison laugh at me while I pinch my nostrils and attempt to cough it out of my system.

"Awesome, you got drinking nailed. Now just a couple more and you're ready to start hitting on guys," Maddison jokes, shooting her glass of alcohol in her mouth.

She laughs loudly and slams it back down on the bar, "keep 'em coming Johnny, we're getting smashed tonight!"

I cringe, lightly sipping on the next one. Maddison pouts and it slowly emerges into a peer pressured glare. I can feel her words in my head. Drink it, drink it, drink it, DRINK IT! I choke the rest down as quickly as I can, though aware of the pain it's causing me. This is not going to end well for me, I know it. I can't even handle drinking fizzy drinks sometimes. The intoxicating drink has me in a dizzy haze and I excuse myself to find a place to sit.

I spot a red set of staged couches, mounted on square-stacking stairs, and climb my way to lay my body lazily across the leather.

"Excuse me?" a voice interrupts.

A man, possibly 40 years of age, stands above me with a bottle of champagne in his hand and a bucket with ice in the other. "You're in my booth, VIP's only," he states boldly.

I wince. Damn it, this is not going well.

"But because you're so pretty I think we can work out a little arrangement," he whispers seductively by my ear with his hand on my thigh. It trails up higher and I struggle to process my brain to make me react. No, this is wrong. Don't touch me!

"Stop," I squeak helplessly.

"Come on baby," he encourages me. A wash of fury straightens me out as he slips his hands too high up my dress, enough to slip his old prune-fingers between my thighs. I clench shut and kick him off me. The blow sends him backwards but not enough to fall over and I swing my fist down between his thighs. He grunts loudly and cups his manhood in pain.

I scoff and run off quickly out of the VIP booth. The crowd is thick and when I look back to check if the bastard was following me I bump into a stranger and his drinks run down the front of my top.

Holy shit… I've seen what happens next in the movies.

He won't hit a girl will he? A big fight is about to start, I know it, and it's all because of my clumsiness.

"Great!" He hisses, shaking the drink off his hand.

I gasp at the cold liquid, soaking my chest area and I hate to admit I felt my lady-nips pucker lightly at the sudden coolness on my flushed complexion. Instantly my reaction is to wrap my arms across my breasts tightly.

"I am so sorry, it's just that," I barely finish explaining myself when he cuts me off.

"Yeah, you got yourself caught in Howard's booth; tough," he amusingly scoffs mercilessly. He doesn't seem to care, however he does seem to know what this Howard is capable of.

"I said I was sorry," I whimper. I felt like I was about to cry. This scene was too much for me to take, I want to go home!

He pauses, thinking over the situation and softens only slightly as his shoulders drop guard. "Come on," he sighs, leading me into the crowd of sweaty dancers.

I'm nervous to follow but I'm more nervous to disobey him…

He reaches another booth with the same red cushions as the others and it was higher above the floor ground, so you could look over the entire bar. The couches were placed around the corners of the room on individual high platforms, each with a personal waitress and ice bath for the drinks.

He offers the other side of the booth for me to take a seat and I hesitantly place myself into the corner where I feel most hidden.

He stares at me for a little while and a small evil smile spreads across his cheeks, "well aren't you the shy one. I wouldn't have expected so, showing up in a sexy dress like that." He runs his dry eyes up and down my figure while sipping on a new glass of fresh champagne; a replacement for his previous one, of which I'm now wearing.

I feel embarrassment wash over my cheeks, "it's not my dress," I mutter.

"You're going to have to speak louder darling, the music is quite loud."

"I don't own this dress," I repeat with a little more defence. What does this fellow want with me? I spilt his drinks and now he's inviting me to sit in his VIP section? There's a catch.

"You seem confused," he observes.

"I'm sorry I just don't get it…" I shrug shyly.

He smirks, "your dress is soaking and an innocent soul like yours was just begging for my mercy," he lazily leans back and kicks his leg up to lean on his other knee. He almost looks humoured by my weakness; it's rather insulting.

"What's your name?" I suddenly ask. I hadn't thought it through and it just came over me too quickly for me to stop myself.

"Oh no, my dear, spare me the details and I shall spare you mine, this isn't anything personal."

Then what is it?

"Surely you have a first name then at least?"

He was without a doubt the snobbiest boy I'd ever met. Though perhaps not much older than me he seemed, he was a whole lot richer. His body was coated in a navy button up; sleeves rolled up to tighten around his bicep and black pants down his leg. His hair was probably worth more than this dress, which is a lot since most of Maddison's friends are prickly rich girls.

"Draco. Just Draco," he tests me and the boundaries of his guidelines. I can see he isn't one for getting close. The way his tight facial features remain hardened in light conversations because he refuses to let his guard down. Trust issues perhaps?

Draco was a tall blonde of course and he was handsome, sure, but not with the kind of handsome features I usually take liking in. He had ghostly white skin; a milky complexion like cream and his hair was practically as white as a light globe that it beamed off the reflection of the clubs' neon lights. He was more dangerous looking in the sense he had the eyes of a snake, and resembled a lean, skinny figure but toned in all the right places.

Enough said; Draco was damn attractive.

"I'm Hermione," I gulp.

"I didn't ask your name," he replies.

Ouch.

"I'd rather not be called love or dear by you and rather my own name, thank you very much," I spat back.

"As the lady requests," Draco raises his glass in a toasting action.

"You're quite the charming one aren't you," I roll my eyes sarcastically.

His expression tells me he's not used to people being upfront with him with such sour language, but he isn't mad either; more shocked.

"Charming, quite, but not romantic," he hints with an obvious stare.

"You say that you're worried I might fall for you," I sigh.

"Oh it's happened before, I can assure you that sweetheart."

"Hermione," I correct him, "and I'm not the falling type."

"Let me guess, bad experience?" he teases.

"You think you can read my life? What about you Mr. Richie-rich with a VIP booth to yourself none the less? You come to these clubs because you don't receive enough attention at home and seek out a good shag with whatever girl sits on your lap…"

He is less than impressed and stares me down harshly.

"You're testing my limits," he warns.

"Nothing personal, remember?" I brush my words carefully with confidence.

"Clever, aren't you. What's an educated girl like yourself doing in a place like this?"

A small pinch of anger rushes through me as my brain racks through my memory for why.

"Because you're right, I did have a bad experience and now I'm here for the same reason as you… Though I admit this isn't my scene."

"Clearly," he agrees.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You look the part, you just don't act it. I can tell you're uncomfortable. You're too shy to be a slut like the rest of these girls; you're a virgin for sure," he directs his attention to the people on the dance floor. There's a smell of sex and sweat as the bodies grind on each other and pant heavily.

"And say I wasn't?"

"You are. Trust me," he scoffs playfully.

He hungrily stares over me and then pushes the feeling away by directing his eyes to his drink.

"I'm no virgin, sweetheart," I toy with one of his many nicknames.

He leans forward over the table, holding his weight on his arms and silences me in his hallucinating stare. "Something tells me your idea of sex must be different to mine."

"Perhaps…" I timidly whisper, remembering all the times I'd never reached my climax before Ron had already blew his load after a minute. Yes, definitely not his idea of sex…

He reads my thoughts like an open book, "you're thinking about it aren't you?"

"Perhaps," I repeat again, holding back on my information.

"Don't test me…" he bites his lip and comes to a stand.

"No," I tell him boldly, "tonight… I break the rules." A rush of confidents takes over my conscious part of mind and I stand to meet his body. I capture our lips together, openly circling them in a passionately sincere moment. He was gentle, but holding back the raging hormones I know are stored in his pants.

Draco's hands grip around my waist and slither down to grasp my butt. Every part of me wanted to get closer but even chest to chest there was still so much distance between our skins merging together in the way I'm secretly fantasizing about…

He tears his mouth away, backing up to catch a breath. For a moment I felt unwanted and downright rejected like he didn't want this, but the look of lust in his eyes reassured me he was more than into it.

"We're getting out of here…" he gasps, dragging me roughly through the crowd as he throws bills from his pockets to the bartender. "That should cover it," he hurriedly slips out in a rush.

I catch the last glimpse at Maddison whose jaw drops from Johnny's mouth to the floor when she notices me leave with Draco. I thought I heard her cheering behind the closed door but I was too busy catching up to Draco's fast moving steps to keep track.

His car drove us around a few corners to a gorgeous penthouse and by the time we'd rolled out the doors and into the elevator he had me pressed up against the wall in a hungry kiss.

I was in no mood to complain and let my body do the talking because I quite liked this particular conversation his and mine were having…

He lifts me up by my thighs and I wrap my legs around him, (not even caring that my dress rolled up my hips for the world to see) guides us out of the elevator and he throws me down on his bed when we've manoeuvred past the kitchen and living room.

He takes a longing moment to admire me and starts pulling at his buttons.

"Tell me what was bad about the sex," he says.

"I never said it was bad…" I question.

He leans his body over me teasingly, and my insides beg his attention. Shit! What was coming over me, I'd never acted like this until now.

"Whenever we had sex is lasted around 2 minutes," I avoid looking him in the eyes and averted them to other objects.

He slowly slides the zipper down my back and bites his lip, "he never made you come did he?"

It was so blunt, I was embarrassed to admit it.

"Say it," he demands by my ear.

My dress slips off the end of my feet and his hands are anywhere but on me!

"No he couldn't get me to," I cry desperately and he dips his head down to kiss me again.

"Good girl," he whispers.

In a second flat my bra was unclasped and he took my breasts into a more than affectionate grasp as he dragged his wet mouth across their skin. I was amazed at all the places he managed to hit to make me jump in surprise, like small little zaps of electricity.

"I like the way you respond to me so easily," he says blowing on my nipple breezily. I shudder and arch my back for more.

He straightens on his knees and unclasps his belt. Soon the last of his clothes were removed and his manhood struck me by surprise; he was more than well endowed, he was all perfection there ever could be in a penis – which I'd assumed wasn't much at all, they were all ugly.

But like Maddison told me; it's how you sit on it that matters.

"You're so wet, you ready for me sweetheart?" he pants, holding my hips and running his fingertips smoothly up the skin of my thighs. They trail so close to my core, I grow hotter and hotter under his lead.

Draco thrusts his torso close and guides the tip inside. He lets out a deep grunt and his eyes fight only to remain tightly shut in pure pleasure. Then his whole length slides deeper and his moan extends loudly in a hollowed roar, "fuck! Oh shit you're so tight. Mm," he grunts.

His moves in tune into a steady rhythm, pacing quickly but in time with mine. It sends tingles through the core of my stomach like a fire had been ignited in the pit.

"Yes! Draco!" I scream, letting my body surrender to him.

Was it minutes? An hour? Half? I didn't keep track of the time because it seemed so non-existent. Then as I came to the edge of my orgasm, my eyes rolled into the back of my head and my body clenched tight to every muscle as it built up and eventually steadied again.

Draco came with me, slowing down in pace and running out of breath. Then his body practically shut down and just rolled off to set aside on the mattress beside me.

I leave my legs spread, too sensitive and sore (in the good way) to move without flinching.

Draco and I didn't speak a word to each other until sleep took over our exhausted bodies and I let go of the weight holding me down.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3  
Platform 9 ¾**

I waited in the empty train booth, alone with my thoughts as I looked out the foggy window of students and families parting. I wished for my parents to be with me to drop me off at platform 9 ¾ like usual since they couldn't cross any further, but I hadn't seen a peep out of either of them over the entire Summer… As if they'd make the time to say goodbye if they never started with Hello.

Maddison however did give me a ride to the train station. She offered to wait for the train with me but I couldn't exactly just walk through the wall and leave her behind, so I politely declined after promising her I'd write more letters.

A week had passed since our trip to the night club when I slept with than gorgeous blonde. She wouldn't stop asking me about it the minute I snuck home at 5 in the morning. She was already waiting in my bedroom for me when I left Draco's house.

I wasn't going to stick around; what would happen next? He'd casually wake up, be happy to see me, we'd make breakfast together and then just exchange numbers? He already told me clearly he didn't get attached. And I wouldn't either. No need for silly romance nonsense.

There was no point getting stuck in the muggle world. When I graduated I don't plan on stepping foot there again. There was too much hate and too much lies… I didn't want a part of it anymore. I had no interest being part of a world where an entire marriage was based on one big, fat joke and I'd become the punchline. How could they fake happiness for over a year? How could he call me his precious daughter with a straight face, even though it was being buried between the thighs of another woman while I slept? A woman that wasn't my mom! But oh no, she's not so innocent either. She knew! She was out sleeping with her boss for pay rises and promotions then coming come to kiss dad goodnight like everything was fine. All this in front of me and I hadn't suspected a thing.

I guess I didn't know them as well as I thought I had.

Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if Ron and I hadn't broken up? I would have come home, packed my bags and gone on the Weasley trip along with Harry. That meant I would still be the punchline of my parents' joke and still be under the hallucination they were together.

Oh how I envied the Weasley's happy family home. Their mother is such a wholesome woman and I love the way she welcomes me every time I come over to their home, with open arms and frantic behaviour to instinctively feed me immediately until my stomach pops.

I can count on her she would have given Ronald a piece of her mind for me at least. Then of course there was Maddison whom drunkenly demanded I gave her my cell phone so she'd call up the bastard and threaten his life. I'd made up some excuse about deleting his number since the Weasley's didn't use a home phone nor cell phones.

Even in Hogwarts, I'd been one of few muggle-born witches and wizards to bring my cell phone and keep it to myself. A student, Carrie Fitzgerald, was from London like me and we'd join up our devices and do multiplayer games and messaging past bed time. It was our little muggle secret.

Luna entered the train carriage, or frolicking more suited her majestic entrance. She was so graceful with everything she did with her own strange twist. I was a walking disaster on the other hand.

"Hello Hermione," she takes a graceful seat, "Crookshanks," she addresses my cat also, curled up in my lap like the princess it thought it was.

The glass door slides open again and Ron, Harry and Ginny stand in the frame of it nervously. Ron makes eye contact with me and gulps. Be scared you little shit… I think to myself.

"Oh this is bloody ridiculous!" Ginny rolls her eyes and marches inside, kneeling down in front of me. She takes hold of my hands and looks up with begging eyes, "Hermione we're all so sorry! I'm so sorry! I completely ignored you all break and I shouldn't have, I was a terrible friend. It's just that I thought it would be awkward if Ron found out we were still friends, but I was being totally silly. You'll forgive me, won't you?" She wept all her blood and tears out on the table for me, and I was in no position to be unforgiving.

"Of course I forgive you…" I whisper lightly and Ginny pounces up like a cat to hug me.

"Oh I missed you so much Mione, it was torture without you these holidays! Harry was always off comforting Ron while he sulked and whined about you-"

Ron coughs, "Ginny!"

"What? We all bloody missed her, don't be a brat about it! Now I believe you and Hermione have some things to discuss…"

Way to pull the cat out of the bag Gin… Way to go…

But Gin's subtlety did the trick to make her squirming brother pull me to the side. We stood outside the compartment, all eyes on us from the inside, and I glared at Harry. Hard. He whimpered and reached out to shut the curtains.

Much better.

I sighed, "look Ron, I want this to be as quick and painless as possible so we can move on. So I'm sorry…"

I was going to be the bigger man in this. But even I knew what little power that one word had, so I continued on. "I'm sorry I wasn't a better girlfriend and didn't pay any attention to you. Especially when Harold died! And all I could think about was my studies and homework. I-I guess I'm no good at this relationship thing and thought I could balance one with my school work…"

He shook his head, a stupid grin across that snowflake pale face. I noticed he'd grown his hair out and it shagged in a thick ginger mop across his head. It suited him. Sighing, it was like when I stared at him, I was staring at what I was missing the most. I remember why I fell for him in the first place, but that's as far as this went I suppose.

There was no spark after all.

"Hermione," he huffed, "don't you dare apologise."

Wait what?

My heart fell into my stomach at that moment. Was he rejecting my apology? No, no he wouldn't! Would he?

"I'm the one in the wrong."

Oh thank Merlin. I was more than relieved that Ron was being mature about this and not his usual self. He smirked, bringing his hand up to move a loose curl behind my ear. I liked when he did that.

"I was the biggest idiot for humiliating you that way. I think because I liked you so much, I retaliated in a bad way when it didn't work out. At least that's the theory Ginny explained… But I think she's right. When the honeymoon phase was over, it was like we were two different people around each other. And I was dumb about it, so I'm sorry."

My lower lip trembled. So that was why he cheated? It wasn't because he just got bored of me?

"Ron, you're so sweet. I forgive you. Now, normally cheaters never get a second chance at anything, but I understand. I guess I may have even done the same thing…" Suddenly I saw a flash of Draco in my head; his snow white head and hot flesh pressed against mine. The pit of my stomach heated up, suddenly feeling a tingling buzz over the places he touched me.

"Are you blushing?" Ron asked, distracting me from an oncoming memory. I pressed my fingertips into my cheekbones and sure enough a fiery heat ignited beneath the skin. I must be so pink right now.

"Oh, um," I stuttered, lowering my head down. Okay, so no more thinking about Draco, I made a mental sticky-note. That was still going to be a touchy subject for me, so hopefully one I'll never have to bring up again. Maybe next summer I can spend it at the Burrow with Harry and the Weasley's. That way, I have no solid chance of running into him again.

It was an unlikely event, there were millions of muggles in my town, and to coincidentally meet one stranger twice is an impossibility.

He's not much of a stranger anymore, that little voice ticked over in my head.

I felt the pink blossoming over my cheeks again and let my hair curtain over it bashfully.

"It doesn't matter," Ron smiled as if nothing had happened. I decide I would just let him believe whatever he wanted about what I'm blushing about.

He lead us back into the crammed up train compartment where Harry, Ginny and Luna were patiently waiting on one of the couches. They'd cleverly left the other open for Ron and I to sit together. Ginny can get quite ridiculously carried away with her schemes. No matter how small or subtle, everything was a good idea.

Before Ron and I even began our relationship, Ginny was scribbling fake love letters addressed to me. If she'd changed her handwriting to look more like Ron's toddler-like-font, I might have believed it.

"Ginny, honestly," I sighed and scooted my butt right over to the window where I could lean my head.

She smirked deviously, "what, I didn't do anything."

"I'm sure you did," Ron agreed and left some space between us. I was slightly thankful. I wouldn't want Ginny getting the wrong idea and begin plotting.

"So are you two made up yet?" Luna piped up. It took most of us all by surprised. She hardly ever got involved with drama, especially involving relationships. Sure, she had her wise opinions, like words from an ancient fairy tale, but never silly high-school nonsense.

I nod, "yes, we've decided on a mutual friendship," I eye Ginny.

Luna smiled, pulling one of the daisies from her braid and plucking at its petals while humming. She was always so mysterious like that.

"My sources state you won't get back together again," she pinches the last petal and lets it sway to the floor.

"But it's a flower?" Harry asks and Ginny slaps him lightly on the knee.

"Why so negative Potter? Even flowers have opinions, you know. It's like the legend goes; he loves her, he loves her not," she shrugs. I remember that from when I was a child; plucking flowers because it would determine whether my crushes returned their feelings. Luna continued, "you can ask them anything," she pulled another daisy from her hair and gave it to him.

He stared at it sceptically, twirling it between his fingers. Slowly, he shed the flower of its white petals one by one and smiled as he stared at the last one oh-so lovingly. Harry plucked it and placed it in Ginny's palm. She glowed and kissed him on the lips.

Ron wasn't feeling the romance and moaned, "Sot off Harry, that's my sister! I'd rather not see her tongue down your throat, or yours exploring anywhere else."

I giggle, "Ron, don't be silly. It wasn't like he was having sex with her. It was merely a peck," I shrug.

Ginny gives me a wink, either grateful for me backing her up, or something more suggestive. I couldn't tell. My social skills need a lot of work. Serves me right for locking myself up all Summer.

I thought about telling them, about what happened between my parents.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four  
Snow White or Prince Charming?**

Harry and Ginny fastened their robes as we unloaded the train carriage. Ron, being taller than me, helped get my luggage from the above compartments. Inside were my basic necessities; robes, wand, letters I was yet to read from mum and dad and my muggle mobile device. The rest would be brought up to my room.

"You ought to hurry," Luna patiently waited. She didn't bring anything with her on the train, so she was first ready. "It seems like everybody's already off," she looked down the halls. I poked my head out, still tired from dozing off, and she was right. There wasn't anybody left. It was just an empty train and that meant if it took off, we'd be going with it.

"Guys, we have to go," I grunted. Harry and Ginny just picked up everything at once, Ron too, and began kicking what they couldn't carry like a soccer ball.

"Merlin's beard! Why in the bloody hell did you have to bring so much stuff on board, Ginny?" Ron complained, falling behind.

She shrugged, "who knows what I might need before we get settled in," she says like it was obvious.

"You do not need both suitcases of your shoes. We aren't attending a ball, nor playing Quidditch nor going out into the snow - because there is none - before we get settled in!"

She shrugs again, following after Harry and Luna without another word. I understood her packing situation, I got like that too, but never to this extent. The female mind mostly boggled myself sometimes. When I pack, I realise I probably won't need something, and still bring it just in case. Like a torch and spare batteries and a curling iron and even my Dsi that I haven't used since I was 10. I didn't know why, I just thought I might get bored and want to have a few games of Mario Kart. It'd be awfully amusing to show Ron and Ginny and watch them try to play with the technology. I knew Harry was-familiar with it, he did grow up in the muggle world too after all.

We got off the train, but only just a few seconds before it took off, never to return until the end of year. That was a close one, I breathed out.

"STOP THAT TRAIN!" Pansy Parkinson screeched like a baby piglet. Her friend followed at suit, prepared to even take out their wands if necessary. She had a turned-up nose, pointing to the sky, that unfortunately was the most noticeable feature on her face. If you looked beyond that, however, she was always quite pretty with a light dusting of freckles on her clear complexion. Her hair was as black as a Raven's feathers, cut into a sharp trim just under her chin. It was rather a professional look. Too bad she couldn't have a personality to match.

Pansy was a good witch, as were her fellow pureblood friends, it only made sense that she excelled. But she never took her exams and assignments seriously. She just expected one-to-one combat all the time and messed around in class.

"Don't worry Pansy," Crabbe bravely swaggered forward, pushing his robe to the side to reveal his wand, "I'll stop it."

My eyes widened, "NO, DON'T!" And I intercepted the blow, "expelliarmas!"

His wand flicked away from his hand, getting lost somewhere in the fields. I would help him find that later.

"You meddling mudblood! How dare you!" Pansy shrieked, turning her attention off the train and to me. "I left something behind!" She explains.

I scoff, "well you'll just have to hope when it returns to the station it'll be found and delivered back to Hogwarts for you. The train is charmed; you cannot cast any spells on it for safety purposes."

"And why would they do that?" She asked disbelievingly.

"No train robberies or evil witches and wizards trying to board the train. Do you not remember the Dementor incident last year?" Honestly, how could that have not crossed her mind. It was for our own safety.

"Yeah, I remember. Harry Potter fainted," one of her slaved minions piped up.

Harry tensed beside me, but Ginny beat me to it and stepped in front. She hated confrontation as much as I did. I'd hate to see Harry get expelled before we've even started the year. These Slytherin mudbloods however? I wouldn't mind pruning their social ladder and rid of people like Pansy Parkinson.

She fastened her robes, made from a much nicer and richer material from ours. "Now look what you've done. You've wasted our time with blabbering such nonsense about train-charms or whatever, and now it's out of sight and it'll be too late to give the Malfoy's their welcoming gift!"

"I guess that's your problem," Ron stepped in, snarling like a guard-dog at the ready. "They'll have to go without your welcoming gift," he mocked.

Pansy looked offended, but not for her own honour. "Do you have any idea who you just insulted? The Malfoy's are one of the most powerful pure-blooded families in the wizard world!"

Someone's done their homework, I snorted lightly. If only she put that much research into her exams. By the look on her face she was outraged that I'd never heard of them.

"But of course a mudblood like you would have never heard of them. Tell me, how was your Summer? I heard you spent it all alone…" Pansy crosses her arms, looking between Ron and I. "I'd cheat on you too if I had to be your boyfriend. Poor Weasley probably couldn't get under your virgin-skirt I'd bet."

Ron does the one thing that could make this situation even worse. He told them…

"That's not true! Me and Hermione had sex loads of times!"

Ginny and Harry cringe while Luna looked un bothered. I would have thought she'd taken off by now to be quite honest. Like I said, she's never part of the drama.

Pansy erupted into a fit, throwing herself over to bellow a wheezing laugh. It reminded me of a hog choking on its food. "You are such a slut!" She exclaims. That escalated quickly. One minute I was a prude, the next I was a slut. But isn't that how gender roles work? I mean, if a guy lays around he's just being a guy, but if a girl lays around she's a horny slut and everybody loses their minds!

I face-palm, hoping to hide behind my curtain of hair. He just said what I think he said didn't he? Oh I wish he hadn't. Why couldn't he shut that damn trap of his? I'd rather continue this year without the whole school knowing I've, god forbid, had sex. Now Pansy was going to tell everybody and it'll be out by first period tomorrow. The reputation of a loner-virgin was much preferable in my personal opinion.

"Who cares?" Ginny scoffs. That's my girl. "We all know you slept with the entire Slytherin male population in exchange for them doing your homework. You're the slut!"

Luna speaks up, "Hermione is more than capable of bonding her lady-parts with the other male-parts. She could have had a fling over the Summer if she'd wanted." In her own twisted way, I could see how she tried. But somehow it made me feel worse. I did have a Summer fling. Oh God, I just knew it, they were going to find out weren't they?

It'll just slip and I won't be able to take it back.

No, keep it together Hermione. They won't find out. I'm sure they won't judge you for it if they did… Still, I'd rather not take my chances. Ron and I did just make up after all.

"Ah, and the trouble-making begins so soon," an old voice croaks. Professor McGonagall, in her old and wrinkly glory. But truly she was quite the honourable woman. "Honestly, you haven't even stepped inside the castle yet. I had hoped you'd wait until at least mid-semester to continue this feuding nonsense…" She batted her eyelids, or what looked more like a seizure. "Follow me."

Pansy was very displeased, "but Professor!" She cried out. "My things-"

"I assume you're talking about your gifts for the Malfoy's, Miss Parkinson, but it's quite possible he won't even be sorted into the Slytherin house… But all is well, the station will mail them back to us within the next week or so."

She was very displeased with that answer. "He was kicked out of Durmstrang. He must be a Slytherin," she bats her eyelids, blinking away the fury that have steamed her eyes dry.

"We shall soon see, Miss Parkinson. But I have to ask for the lot of you to come with me. You're late, and we were expecting you in the Great Hall 15 minutes ago. Hurry along now," she transformed into a cat, disappearing in the long grass.

I stomp my foot down into the dirt. Following eagerly, I feel the presence of Ginny, Harry and Ron tagging along too. Though it took a lot more convincing to get Pansy to come with us, she was still determined to catch that train. Her precious gift would just have to wait. Surely some no good, pure-blooded wizard had his fortune and could wait a week. It was probably some little bottled cologne or potion that would explode into a pink mist, taking the form of a heart. I'd seen it a thousand times all on Valentine's day.

A fault in the Great Hall would be the loud noise of the doors, the old rusted hinges moaning as it turned. Then all the attention was to us as Dumbledore continued his speech. He didn't stop, he just kept going and the eager little heads of the First Years lost interest in our distraction. Harry, Ron, Ginny and I slipped into a space by George and Fred. Those two boys must have shooed off anybody who tried to sit down, poor things. For being late, I should be standing, not making the other years cram up to leave room.

Never the less I took a seat. The first years blocked my view of the front, and slowly their numbers died down as each of them were sorted into their houses.

Dumbledore stood before the school, his arms stretched out wide like an eagle and everybody surrendered to the silence. He was respected like that.

"Students, I wish that you welcome the first years as the years above had welcomed you. Although I hope each of you enjoyed your Summer's, we are coming into the beginning of the semester and slacking off will not be tolerated. I expect you to work hard and try your very most best in each of your subjects."

The first years grew anxious, shuffling in their seats.

I remember feeling the same way, pressured by the expectations here, though confident in my knowledge that it would get me through. Now here I am.

Unfortunately, the students at my table also knew I was here; Hermione Granger, seated next to Ron Weasley. Rumours were being spread faster than diseases right at this moment and there was a pinching sensation whenever a pair of eyes looked at me.

"Secondly, I'd like to introduce to you all some other new additions to the school. Transfer students from both Beauxbaton and Durmstrang."

As Dumbledore rambled on with his speech, I lowered my head, tucking it away.

The setting was slightly off this year. What was usually a night sky, glittered with stars and the soft glow of floating candle light was replaced with a mirage of the galaxy and orbiting planets. Watching Jupiter spin in the purple and blue wash was difficult to keep your concentration on. I found that I got queasy and took comfort in the blockage my arms created over my eyes.

"What a bunch of bloody wankers," Ron scoffed, looking back at the empty table, half expecting food to appear in front of him. His attention was always on his stomach, that one.

"You might find that they're actually quite friendly," said Harry in a hopeful tone of voice. "I hear their students are quite good and come from strong families."

"That's why they're wankers Harry. They get to lay back on their parents' fortune and jerk off all bloody day," Ron said as if it were obvious. I heard Harry sigh, giving up on persuading Ron to be more open minded. "I mean, don't you agree Hermione? Look at how Pansy Parkinson acted at the train; it's like spitting out cloned prototypes. They'll all be hanging out together for sure."

I half-turned my head, laying the weight on my elbow and looked at my friends. Harry and Ron's eyes were equally fixed to the front, waiting anxiously. No matter who these people are, they'll still argue about it for the next two days until one of them is proclaimed winner of the debate.

"Honestly, both of you," I complained, "What does it matter? You should both know that blood status does not defy one's own abilities. You could be just as strong and powerful as a pureblood or as stuck-up. I suggest you take your pick," I snapped.

Neville's jaw was hanging loosely open and he flinched his gaze away from me out of fear. He did that whenever I became grouchy, in case I ever forced my anger onto him again. I'll never live that incident down.

"Hermione's right," Harry says. Ron nods with him along with a half-hearted shrug. I know him as well as I know myself, and he still bets that these transfer students will be pricks. But I choose not to say anything.

Just slightly over Dean Thomas' shoulder, I caught the glimpse of a girl to be described as little, with thick brown curls. She looked gracefully elegant, like a proper lady, and probably spent her magic on high tea and pumpkin pasties and beauty charms. I never liked the girls at Beauxbaton. We had a transfer student from there last year; some know-it-all pommie with dumb opinions that half-assed her exams all year. As long as she didn't get her robes dusty.

This girl however, I noted, was carrying a book at least and wore framed spectacles with her hair tied back in a pony-tail. I could assume that she had respect for intellect.

To the sorting hat she went, and she beamed gladly as she was placed into Ravenclaw. They were on the next table over, and were the loudest of the four houses. But we didn't hate them. I myself, wouldn't have minded falling into the Ravenclaw house as my second choice.

Next was a wire-blonde boy, tinted with dark golden coffee strands. His skin was fare, slightly pinkish in the cheeks, and from what I could tell, eyes too light to be blue. He reminded me of a more charming Cormac McLaggen, and hopefully better mannered.

I didn't bother paying as much attention to the rest of his introduction and dozed back off peacefully. Briefly, I would hear only certain parts of what Dumbledore and the student, (Zander Hawkins I learned his name was – an American wizard who moves around with his very powerful father) and zone out in the rest. To my surprise he was a Gryffindor lad.

That was a told-you-so directly to Ron.

"Draco Malfoy"

My stomach churned and I bit down hard on my gums, grinding the flesh between my back teeth.

Draco. Just Draco. Like a mixtape on loop through my head, I thought of him again. Why his name? I should set myself a punishing charm. Every time I think about him I'll get an automatic zap. It's not good for my mental health to drawl over the people of my past.

It only brought back guilty memories. From now on every time I see this Draco Malfoy, it'll surely just be a never-ending cycle of flashbacks. And just as I raise my head from the safety of my crossed over arms, the cycle began.

That hair was all too familiar. A familiar punch in the gut that was between choking up my throat or sacked in the pit of my pained stomach. Like strands of individual spider webs, his hair glistened under the lights of the ceiling in the way I remembered it under the fluorescent club beams of red and blue.

It's him, I'm sickly sure of it. With his back to the audience of students, and arm outstretched to shake Dumbledore's hands, I still could sense all the same familiar characteristics from that night. The way he was so proper; his body never curved or hunched; strictly straight and precise; neat clothes and clean scent of soap and cologne.

He turned, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. It was definitely him. But why of all people? He was a Wizard the whole time? And not only that, a powerful one with great inheritance. Now, he attends my school.

Oh no, what if- and I couldn't pin down just one. There were a billion different situations that this could be handled when we first meet (well, as fellow wizards and not just two lonely souls in a middle-class club). Will everybody know eventually? Will Harry and Ron find out? Will he embarrass and dismiss me in front of the school? Will he be shocked to see me? What if he expects the relationship to continue? Oh Merlin! I left his place in the early morning, what if he's mad?

"SLYTHERIN!"

My heart stopped and the world felt like I was in the centre of a record player. I choke and stumble back.

"Hermione are you alright?" Harry asks concerning, placing his palm on my back to steady me. I'd almost fallen off of my chair and in between the house tables.

"Let the feast… BEGIN!" Dumbledore makes his signature finale, and raises his arms to reveal an all-you-can-eat buffet spread across each table. Ron's face brightens as his fist races for a rack of lamb before anyone else's. I hear the cheering of students, eager to start off the year with a filling meal, but I'm lost inside the noise.

"Hermione?" Harry asks again. I'm already too far gone; blanked out into my own world of haze.

I choke out, "I- " but it's more difficult that I'd thought. My mouth wouldn't work in coordination with my tongue and vocal cords. I swallow the lump in my throat, blink my eyes hard, and say, "I need some air."

Then I take off, speed walking along the edge of the Gryffindor table with some students from my house recognising me and saying a brief hello, followed by "where are you going?" I didn't stop to answer and made a bee-line for the dorms.


End file.
